1995-07-03C: Tell No Tales


Siobhan_icon.gif Molly_icon.gif

Scene Title Tell No Tales
Synopsis Following orders, Siobhan goes exploring and learns… well, more than she did alive at any rate.
Location Grimmauld Place: Drawing Room
Date July 03, 1995
Watch For Molly's mothering and spurts of useful information.
Logger The Origami Snake

Sirius Black had invited the Weasley family to stay in his house. Before that can happen, there has to be a certain level of cleanliness, at least in part of the old, dusty place. Molly Weasley stands in one corner of the room, eyeing a cabinet with clutter and dust on it. "Honestly. How can that man live in such a mess!" She shakes her head, and moves over to another corner of the room to find the Mrs. Skowers'.

"I would assume it's because he never grew out of his sloppy, teenage years." The voice is young and female; even decidedly familiar if Molly catches that. The odd thing is, however, that it seems to come from inside the wall.

Familiar or not, these are not the safest of times. And she isn't comfortable here quite yet. So the matriarch pulls her wand out, and scans the area for the sound of the voice. "Who is it?" Molly's normally friendly voice is now sharper. She looks around, trying to locate where the voice comes from. She's unsucessful, however. The words the voice speaks make her snort. "Well, that's about the truth." She mutters, softly.

Moving through doorways and staircases that are as old and in as much disrepair as the rest of the house, Siobhan finally appears in a nighttime, moonlit lake scene done in a lovely combination of oils and watercolor. It's an oddly tasteful thing to find in the Black residence, but she supposes even pureblooded arseholes can have a modicum of style once in a while. "Over here, Mrs. Weasley." Siobhan waves and grins. Since the painting is around eye-level, it shouldn't be too hard to miss. "Would it be rude to ask just why you're cleaning the 'Most Noble and Ancient House of Black'?" The name is spoken with just a hint of mockery. Yes, she quite got an earful from Phineas upon arrival, but that earful had actually included some useful information.

When the voice continues to speak, Molly tilts her head, and follows its progress. "Well." She moves closer to Siobhan, and looks at her closely. "Oh, my. Oh, dear." She drops her wand, and wrings her hands. "Oh, dear. Poor Edana." Her eyes start to water a bit, and she lowers her head in mourning for a short time. Steeling herself, she raises her face again. "Siobhan, right?" She thinks she remembers the girl's name correctly. "I'm cleaning because Sirius Black invited us to stay for a while, and I thought I'd just tidy up a bit before we came. My lot can make quite a bit of mess as is…" She looks away again, thinking of something. "My Ginny will be heartbroken…" Her voice trails off.

Oooh, Ginny! "Is she around? I didn't see her when I wandered in…" Offering her biggest, brightest smile - and not quite sure why the woman looks like she's about to cry - Sio nods. "Yep, that's me! Had a little chat with the Headmaster an' passed an odd-lookin' door on the way down." She chuckles a bit at that. "Put Phineas in a rotten mood, but I'm pretty sure Sirius'll be happy." Looking for all the world as if she's leaning against the other side of the frame, Siobhan rests her jaw on one hand. "What made you decide ta move the whole brood t' this place?" she wonders, curiously. "Doesn't have quite the… charm of the Burrow…"

"No, dear, Ginny's still back at the Burrow finishing things up for me there…" Molly frowns slightly. "Well, we thought it might be safer for Harry and the children do so enjoy spending time with him…" Well, all but one of her kids. "Plus, it seems that it might be safer here than at the Burrow…" She doesn't mind telling this young girl things. It's not like the dead can really tell tales, is it? "You've seen Albus? Is he here?" She wonders why the girl was in Phineas' painting, but merely looks at her closely. Scrutiny. "Dear, you ought to find a painting with a sink and get that mark off your nose." She mothers from a distance, yes.

See Sirius? Told you things would go smoother when people assume you're dead. Not that Siobhan's all that sure she isn't dead. "Haven't you got wards on the Burrow, too?" She shakes her head. Then nods. Then shakes it again. "No, he's not here. Yes, I saw him." There, that's more clear. "First time I've had a decent conversation since that bloody Alumni Weekend." She winces, then. "Sorry Mrs. Weasley." For the language and the spot. Which she endeavors to scrub off her nose.

Molly is less likely to scold the girl for language when she's dead and encapsulated in a portrait. "Oh." The comment about the Headmaster seems quite confusing. "Well, then." She's not sure what to add, and stoops to pick up her wand. Curiosity gets the better of her, and she looks up. "What happened to you, dear?" The question of wards is answered as well. "Oh, but this house is unplottable and under a few of the non-regulation wards." Meaning 'DARK' for at least some of them, but she's ignoring that. "It's only for a short while, dear. When the children go … back to Hogwarts, we'll go home."

"Sweet Circe, that's one paranoid family…" Doing her best to peer at the room Molly's in, Siobhan shrugs. Nothing overly special about it to her. "What? Oh, me?" She shrugs again and looks away. "Followed a suspicious-looking man into the school at that Alumni Weekend thing, saw him carryin' a dead girl an' went after him." Her expression is incredibly blank when she turns back to the Weasley matriarch. Having exorcised a good deal of her pent-up fury at Dumbledore earlier, she seems…horrifyingly deadpan about the whole thing. No pun intended. "When we caught up to him, Snape was there an' hexes flew for a bit. Then I saw this awful bright green light an' woke up in a portrait there in the castle."

"Oh, you poor dear. Does your mother know yet?" Yes, Molly has thoughts for the other mother at this time, mainly because she understands. "Oh, dear," She repeats. "And … Oh, dear." She summons the dusty chair over, gives it a quick scourgify, and sits down in it, all without saying a thing. "Well, dear, would you like me to take a message to her?" It may be one of the most difficult things she will do in her life, but it needs done. "Severus?" She thought better of him. Even knowing he's in the Order and 'working for their side', she frowns at this. Green light to Molly's mind equals 'Killing Curse.' "I heard about the dead body found there. Well, between the rubbish in the Prophet, and the little bit Albus felt he could tell the Order." She is speaking more to herself now.

Nodding slowly, Siobhan swallows; hard. "Yeah, she knows. Dumbledore's already talked to them." Or so he said, anyway. "An' no. Thank you, but no. I think she's under enough stress just now. I'll go see her myself when stuff starts to calm down a little." She does her best to smile and hopes the watery attempt conveys what she cannot say; Siobhan doesn't think she's ready to handle seeing her mum just yet. Not like this. "The Prophet should be burnt to the - hang on." Molly said 'the Order'. "You too?"

Molly is thoroughly confused now. "Me too, what, dear?" The young lady seems to be taking her own death pretty easily, but then again, most portraits do. After a certain period of adjustment… She shrugs it off. "Alright dear. If you let me know when you do, I'll send some food over for them. I'm certain your brothers will all be coming home for the …" She won't say 'funeral'. She just can't.

"I doubt it. Jack can rot for all I care." Such vehement vitriol may seem surprising coming from the normally-pleasant Siobhan, but if one knows the whole story… The young blonde takes a deep, steadying breath and changes the subject back to something a bit less emotionally-charged. "You're a part of this 'Order', too, is what I meant, Mrs. Weasley. Sorry." That really should have been made clearer from the get-go.

"Oh, yes, of course. Well, you were out of school and of age…" Though Molly doesn't quite approve of her children (or any of the children from their generation) being in something so dangerous, she is attempting to accept it. "Now, then!" She doesn't know the whole story, but doesn't have any qualms about stepping into this quagmire. "I thought the two of you were rather close? He'll be heartbroken, dear."

Siobhan chuckles at that. "Oh, I didn't learn about the Order until after - " Realizing she doesn't quite know how to put it, Siobhan turns away to lean against the trunk of a nearby tree, shoulders slumped. "We were." And there's more heartbreak in those two words than in the whole of Juliet and her Romeo. She bites her lip hard enough to draw blood, but strangely, nothing happens. Unnerved by this, but grateful that she's no longer on the edge of tears, Siobhan shrugs. "Things change," she says hollowly. "He's probably off on some honeymoon trip with that lawyer." True venom seeps into that last term, as if it were the chosen profession of the Dark Lord, himself.

"Oh, dear." Molly fiddles with her apron, stuffing her wand back into the pocket. The British Wizarding community is one big little town. Everybody knows everybody else's business. "The American?" The matriarchal woman has the sense that she's stepping into rough waters, but plods on ahead. "She seemed like…" Something she heard comes to mind again, and her eyes widen. "That poor dear." Most of the Order has probably heard about her bite. "Well, I'm sure he'll come home for this…" Ever the optimist. This is the woman who makes a sweaterfor Percy even though she's pretty certain the man will return it.

"Poor dear, my arse," Siobhan grumbles, but says no more. Just because she keeps the secret that makes sure Holly doesn't get put down doesn't mean she likes the woman - and vice versa. "If he hears, maybe. Last I heard, he went off on a job somewhere an' no one could get ahold of 'im." There's another shrug, but this one is jerky, as if Siobhan is doing her best to seem like she doesn't care.

"Language." The reprimand is pretty much second nature now. She's even chided a couple elder Order members on it. "Oh. Pardon me." However, apparently, she draws the line on correcting the dead. "Well, I'm certain he'll find out in time…" And if not, well, he'll come home when he does. Right? Cuz that's what families do. "Where is your picture, Siobhan?"

"In the Headmaster's office by now, I should suspect." And no, Siobhan doesn't explain that one. She pushes herself off the tree trunk and looks about to depart, then thinks better of it. "I don't suppose you see Alastor Moody at those Order things, do you? I've somethin' important I'll be needin' to discuss with him."

"Oh, yes. Alastor is one of our most long-standing members." And a very good freind of the family, too. Molly nods, and glances around the room. "Where will you be? Should I just have him contact Albus if I see him?" She frowns. "I do need to finish up this cleaning, Siobhan. It's nearly time to go home and put the supper…" She trails off again. Poor girl.

"If he drops by his teachin' office, he'll be able t' find me." Siobhan offers Molly a grateful smile. "I'll leave you to it, then. Sorry to have interrupted you, Mrs. Weasley." She waves a little and then turns to walk right out of that painting, though she doesn't head back to the school just yet. There's so much here to explore! And judging by the shriek of outraged surprise… Yep, she just found Walburga.

At Siobhan's abrupt departure, Molly blinks, and calls after her, "Alright, dear. I'll let him know!" She moves the chair out of the way to return to getting at least a little of this done before she has to go home and break the news to her children. She sighs deeply, already mentally planning what she can take over to Torchwood for the grieving family.

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